Fallen Snake
by Saturn10710
Summary: Ethelinda Lestrange. To the world, she is as cold and cruel as her family. To herself? She doesn't know. The Dark Lord is back, and she knows what is expected of her. The only problem is, she doesn't want be his follower. Torn between her family and her morals, Ethelinda navigates her fifth year making new discoveries about herself and finally learns who she is. NL/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello! So this is my first time posting a story on this website, so I hope you'll be nice to me! So, yeah, I don't know if this really counts as a prologue, but oh well. It's more like just an excerpt-type-thing...  
** **By the way, this takes place like waayyy into fifth year, Chapter 1 will go back to the beginning of fifth year. So, this is a glimpse of the future.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Does my username sound anything like "J. K. Rowling"? No. So, I am not her. I only own Ethelinda and her story.**

 **Please leave a review! Reviews are like chocolate! You can never get enough of them!**

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I hear the screams. Are they coming from me? Yes, I think so. The pain is so much, has become so much, that now all I feel is a sort of numbness. It has become so much that I can't feel it anymore. Perhaps it has damaged my nerves, or maybe I have just gone mental.

The Cruciatus Curse has caused people to lose their minds, as in the case of Alice and Frank Longbottom.

Perhaps I am also losing my mind. After all, I am lying on the ground (I think) in a pool of blood (is it mine? I think so) and my ears are ringing from the screams that seem to go on for eternity (I suppose I am the one screaming) and yet I still manage to keep a singular train of thought. Kind of. And that is crazy, in its own way. Especially considering I am still under the curse (at least I think so. The woman above me with crazy black hair with the most haunting cackle whose identity I can't seem to remember is pointing her wand at me and shouting _crucio_ ).

And then…and then nothing. I don't feel anything. I don't know how I feel, or should be feeling. Do I feel pain? Sorrow? I don't know. All I can say is...nothing. What other word can be used to describe the emptiness in my heart? Not just my heart, but my brain, my body, my soul. I see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing.

And then there is something.

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 **A/N: ...Yeah that was short. But next chapter will be up soon! Hopefully...**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yay! First chapter has arrived! Although I'm sorry if it's a bit short...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Only my own character and her story.**

 **Please leave reviews! Good or bad! Both are great!**

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I pull my trunks through the train, looking for an empty compartment. I finally find one - except it's not empty. Loony Lovegood, a Ravenclaw from the year below me, is sitting there. Eh, she's harmless.

"Can I sit here?" I ask, even though I know what she's going to say. Asking is just for the sake of being polite.

Loony, as I'd predicted, smiles and nods. I settle down across from her, and pull out a book to read, while Loony pulls out the latest edition of _The Quibbler_ and reads it upside down. I smirk. I always knew there was some truth to all those rumors about her. This is the first time we've spoken, which isn't really surprising, to say the least. It's better than sitting in some of the other compartments though - I know she'll leave me to myself and won't try for conversation like some other annoying Ravenclaw snobs.

And I don't want to sit with the other Slytherins in my year - my supposed "friends" - because, frankly, they're also annoying. Especially Draco. Ironically, he's the only one I can really tolerate, but only because he's my cousin and I'm inwardly programmed to have higher tolerance levels for him. But if we weren't related, I probably would've slammed his head into the Whomping Willow by now.

What was I saying? Right, I can't really tolerate the other Slytherins. Or anyone really. Gryffindors? Loud slobs who pretend being reckless is the same as being courageous. Hufflepuffs? Too trusting and nice for their own good. Although their unwavering loyalty to whoever or whatever they decide to attach themselves to is something that will definitely come in handy. I just need to get a Hufflepuff to trust me, and then they'll do whatever I ask of them. But I don't need a Hufflepuff's help right now, so, currently, they are useless to me, although that might change in the future.

Ravenclaws? Snobs who think they're better than everyone else just because they're the "intelligent" House. Hah! Like any of them actually have the capability of _using_ that knowledge for anything other than homework! With pursuit of knowledge should also come the ability to apply that knowledge wherever and whenever. But the only thing Ravenclaws can do is memorize and repeat, without actually understanding or knowing what they are saying.

Which brings me to the Slytherins. Arrogant. Obnoxious. Proud. Yet, intelligent, ambitious, cunning (most anyway. I'm not talking about Crabbe, Goyle, or Millicent Bulstrode, because their brains are as capable as a troll's). I might actually be able to stand the people in my House if they would actually shut up about Potter and his "insignificant yet annoying face." (cough "Draco" cough.)

And the staff...well they're some of the few I actually don't think are annoying.

My reverie is broken by the sound of the door sliding open again and three people walking in. Oh great, just what I need. I thought being in the compartment with Loony would give me some peace and quiet, because she wouldn't bother me and, really, who else _would_ sit in the same compartment as her? So, in effect, no one else would come either.

Obviously I was wrong. I glance up at our three new inhabitants and groan inwardly. Longbottom (with some strange looking plant), She-Weasel, and, the worst, Potter. They hesitate a little when they see me, but then end up sitting with us anyway. They better not talk to me...ugh it's getting loud in here.

Look, I don't hate Potter. Really, I don't. But every year, he's the talk of the school. First year? Well, just the fact he was _there_ was enough in the beginning, but just when the novelty started to die down, he went and saved the school from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and was suddenly a celebrity again. Second year? People thought he was the Heir of Slytherin (the silliest idea I've ever heard) and then he went and saved the school again, from the same attacker. Third year? Well, at this point the name "Harry Potter" had slipped from most people's minds and been replaced with "Sirius Black," and I thought I could finally go a year _not_ hearing about Harry Potter, but then he goes and...well we don't _really_ know what happened, but someone said he claimed Sirius Black was innocent but then someone else said Lupin bit him and turned him into a werewolf (which was proven to be obviously false later on) so no one really believes any of those rumors. Fourth year? Participates in the Triwizard Tournament even though he is underage. Fifth year? Well, so far, everyone's been saying how bloody mental the boy is, claiming You-Know-Who is back and that he was the one who killed Cedric Diggory.

But I know the truth. Sirius Black _is_ innocent, and Potter isn't lying. The Dark Lord is back. How do I know?

Well, I mentioned Draco is my cousin right? Well my parents happen to be Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. So who do I live with while my parents are rotting in Azkaban? The Malfoys, of course. Although, I'm starting to think I may have preferred living with my mother's other sister, Andromeda. The name had only been spoken once in my presence, and only by Aunt Cissa, telling me the story of her disgrace when she married the mudblood and had a child with him. Who is older than me. So, I have another cousin, and after looking into it on my own I found out her name was Nymphadora Tonks and she's a metamorphmagus. Yes, maybe she hasn't the most honourable of blood, but it might've been more bearable than growing up constantly wishing I could punch Draco in the face to stop his whining and get away with it.

Where was I? Right, after my parents were caught and sent to Azkaban for being Death Eaters and torturing the Longbottoms, I was given to my aunt and uncle to be raised. And unfortunately was raised next to my whiny cousin. Stupid Draco. But, well, because of it, I heard all about the return of the Dark Lord from Uncle Lucius himself. But I don't really know how I feel about it. I mean, yes, perhaps mudbloods don't deserve the power that they have, but the Dark Lord's first rise to power caused a war. A bloody war. And now he will start another one. Meaning, I will be expected to risk my life for him. And I quite like my life the way it is now: peaceful and quiet. I keep my interaction with mudbloods to a minimum, I've even managed to avoid seeing Mudblood Granger so far-

Oh hell no. She and the blood traitor Weasel have just entered the compartment, with bloody prefect badges. _Why?_

 _Why_ would Dumbledore make _them_ prefects? If only he wasn't such a muggle-loving fool I might've held a bit more respect for him. I mean, I do respect him, but only as much as a student should.

Okay, Mudblood I understand, sort of. She's the Gryffindor Princess, and best friend of Potter. Of course she'd be made prefect. It's expected.

But _Weasel?!_ I would've thought it to be Potter! Everyone knows he's Dumbledore's favorite! The old headmaster really has gone mad, hasn't he?

And let me just say... _why_ would Pansy be chosen over me? I hate that girl, she's always attached to my blonde-haired whiny prick of a cousin as if he's some sort of god. And he is not a god, he is a blonde-haired prick.

I am _much_ more capable of being prefect than _her._

However, I am sort of glad. I don't really like being in the center of things, so I guess this is better for me. But just the fact that my cousin was made prefect and they didn't consider me is extremely insulting. Especially since they chose Pansy instead of me. They couldn't have chosen someone with sense? Even Daphne would be a better choice. I kind of like Daphne. I can stand her, sometimes.

I try not to explode from irritation, as the five Gryffindors talk up a storm. At one point the Weasel says something that makes Loony go even more loony as she starts laughing so hard over something that wasn't even funny. And I thought she was bearable.

I sigh, and try to immerse myself in my book, but it isn't easy with all these people chattering away and Lovegood rolling around on the floor, still shaking with laughter.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello! New update! I guess I'm posting kinda frequently, but with short-ish chapters. If you want longer chapters, than I'll have to take longer to update so...**

 **Anyway, I got my first review! You have no idea how happy those two words made me!**

 **unknownher: Thanks!**

 **Ahaha okay I'll shut up now...on with the story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I only own Ethelinda. (Okay do I have to say this every chapter? Kinda tiring...)**

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I managed to survive the rest of the train ride, barely. I managed to find a carriage that _didn't_ carry a bunch of chatterboxes (actually it was filled with third-year Hufflepuffs who were obviously too scared of a fifth-year Slytherin - me - to even talk to each other). I see Potter in one of the carriages ahead of me, and he's staring at the front of it strangely, while his friends are staring at _him_ strangely.

Ah, so he's finally able to see that the carriages aren't exactly horseless after all. Well, he did see Diggory die in front of him last year, so I guess the realization of his death has finally sunk in over the summer to allow him to see the thestrals.

Interesting creatures, really. Fascinating. See, it's not just _seeing_ a death that lets a person see thestrals. It's only after the person truly realizes what the death means when the truth really sinks in. And, well, it could take anywhere from a few days to as long as a few years, depending on the person.

Who did I see die? Well, once when I was six years old, I was tired of just playing around Malfoy Manor, and ran past the boundaries, just to see what the outside world was like. Draco and I were playing tag, so he was chasing me, but started to chicken out when he saw where I was going. I was heading towards the area inhabited by muggles, set quite apart from our home, obviously.

" _Linda!" Draco yells. "Ethelinda! Come back here! We're not allowed to go there!"_

 _I giggle and call back, "So? It'll be fun!"_

 _His eyes grow wide. "B-But it's full of muggles! And mother and father will get mad!"_

" _They don't have to know!" I yell back at him. "Come on! I just want to see! Besides, how are you ever going to catch me if you're ten feet behind me! You'll never win!"_

 _We'd both stopped running now, catching our breaths and staring each other down. Finally, Draco relents. He sighs and starts running towards me again, prompting me to continue through the heavily-wooded area._

 _I knew I would win this argument. Mention anything about him not beating or winning the game and he'll come._

 _I am the faster runner, and I know he'll never catch up. I finally reach a clearing. Well, it's more of a small village-type area where muggles live. I stare in awe at the sights playing before my eyes. This is my first time seeing muggles! Aunt Cissa is right, they_ do _dress weirdly. And say weird things. And do weird things. I turn around, searching for Draco. I grin, he still hasn't caught up to me yet!_

 _The muggles start shrieking randomly. Such savages._

 _But, no, there's a reason for the shrieking. A small house (It's more of a shack, really. The whole thing is not even the size of my room!) is crumbling down. Flames are surrounding it, while the blue sky has suddenly turned into ash and smoke, and people are screaming, trying to get someone out of the burning home._

 _I freeze. I know I should run. Run away, back to safety and comfort. But I can't seem to get myself to move._

 _I stare at the flames, in both fascination and horror, standing where I am next to a couple of trees. Muggles are running back and forth. Mothers lead their children away, while others run to the house with buckets of water and hoses, trying to save someone still in there._

 _I can't help but laugh inwardly. If they were wizards, the fire would be put out in two seconds, with no threat to anyone's life. In fact, a fire would have never been able to even get this big, if the people here were magical. But they aren't. So they have to resort to these inferior methods to put out a fire that doesn't seem to stop growing._

 _I suddenly remember Draco. Where is he? He'd probably seen the fire and run back home, leaving me here. Selfish, spoiled brat._

 _Finally, someone goes in the house and comes back out, burned a bit but still well, with a child in his arms. She's looks like she's my age, but I can't really tell._

 _They lay her on the ground and when they turn her over...oh my Merlin. Even from where I'm standing, I can see her face has turned red and black, and her arms...she's bleeding. She probably got cut somewhere. The others are trying to help her, to revive her, but I know it's too late. She's unconscious, but seems to wake up for a second as her eyes flutter open and meet mine. And then I can see, her chest rises, and falls, and then it doesn't move again._

 _She's taken her last breath._

I sit in silence, looking at the horse-like creatures, remembering what happened then. Draco had come not long after and found me. He told me he'd been looking for me, but then forgot when he saw the smoke and started running away. And then he remembered me and came running back. His eyes skimmed over the body of the girl for only a few seconds before an elderly woman saw us and asked us where our parents were.

" _I have no parents,"_ I'd said. Draco had rolled his eyes and grabbed my arm. " _Yes, but you have_ my _parents,"_ he'd reminded me. " _Let's go, cous."_

And then he'd dragged me away and back home. Even though I could move on my own by then. Ugh.

Well, that's just it. It's why I can see the thestrals. Draco had seen the body, he realized it was a dead body, but he hadn't actually seen the girl die. He hadn't seen her when she was still alive; a breathing, living, creature. He hadn't seen her take her last breath. He can't see the thestrals.

The dead girl haunts me to this day. Unfortunately, there's no one I can talk to about it - except Draco, but I tried once, and it ended badly - and we never told Aunt Cissa or Uncle Lucius about us wandering off into the muggle world.

What haunts me most, however, was not that she'd died right in front of me.

It was the fact that she was my age. She was a little girl like me. She had shiny black hair like me.

And the worst? Her blood, which I had expected to be different, disgusting, black with diseases. I was told the blood of a muggle is so vile, so black, that I should be repulsed from just a single glance.

Instead? Instead, no. The blood, while of course disgusting (because it's blood. Duh!) did not repulse me. It was not filled with diseases, black, representing the vile, magic-less creatures the muggles were.

Instead, her blood, the muggle's blood, looked just like mine.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I know I've been gone a long time. I could make a long paragraph about how I've been busy or whatever, but I'd rather not make empty excuses. I'll try to update more frequently from now on, and I apologize for making all of the people who followed this story wait. And to everyone who followed and favorited, I'm really grateful and I hope you will continue to enjoy this story. I'll try to post another chapter soon, maybe tomorrow, so look forward to it!**

 **And to new readers, welcome!**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish it were, but unfortunately J.K. Rowling is not me.**

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By the time we reach Hogwarts, I am just, well, _exhausted._ Ugh, I hate my life.

Okay, no, I don't.

First, I had to share a compartment with bloody _Gryffindors_ , and it was even worse when Draco walked in.

He started whining to Potter about his new prefect status, and then he started whining to me about why the hell I was sitting with those _idiots._

And then I finally get some peace and quiet on the carriages when Draco decides to invade my solitude when I step out.

"Why were you sitting with _them?_ " He demands, standing in front of me way too close for comfort with his arms crossed.

"Who is this _them?_ " I question, although I already know. It's fun to irritate him. "You must be more specific, Draco. It's a surprise anyone actually understands what you are talking about most of the time, seeing how vague you tend to be."

"You know _very_ well who I am talking about!" He sneers, "Why, just _why,_ would you be sitting with the likes of them? Gryffindors and Loony Lovegood? When there was plenty of space in my compartment? Have you lost your mind?"

"No, but I'm fairly certain you have," I smirk and push past him while he seethes. Seriously, who can blame me for wanting to sit alone? Or at least to have some peace and quiet, especially after this summer? With the Dark Lord back, Aunt Cissa and Uncle Lucius are under a _lot_ of stress. Uncle Lucius's loyalty lies with the Dark Lord, but then he has to keep up a façade of being a normal Ministry worker. It would be nice to finally get back to my studies in relative peace. To pretend that nothing is going on.

However, there _are_ things going on. Uncle Lucius hinted that there would probably be quite a few changes to Hogwarts this year, considering the less-than-favorable view the Ministry has of its esteemed headmaster lately.

"Ethelinda."

I groan. Draco's caught up to me, and he's using his stern voice. I say nothing, but raise an eyebrow to indicate that I'm listening, as he falls into step beside me and we walk into the castle.

"This is enough. You're acting so childish. Fraternizing with _those people_ merely to annoy me is extremely immature. Especially now. We're fifteen, in fifth year, don't you think it's time to stop acting this way? You need to act more seriously, especially with what's been going on recently. You can't be seen sitting with the likes of _them._ I forbid it!"

I purse my lips, and keep myself from glaring at him, instead focusing my gaze straight ahead at the crowd of people in front of us. We are a few meters behind them, which is good, I suppose. Being seen arguing would not be good for our family's reputation.

"Are you that full of yourself that you think I act this way merely to annoy you? No, I don't care in the least about annoying you. You misread my intentions. I only sat there to get _away_ from you, regardless of whether or not you were annoyed because of it. Actually, if anyone should be annoyed, it should be me. You're the childish one, if you intentionally misunderstood my intents just to boost your own ego. I mean, do you _really_ think my actions are only to annoy you? We've lived together since we were one, you should know I don't care enough to do things only out of spite."

Draco scoffs and attempts to walk past me into the Great Hall, but I grab his arm and pull him back.

"I'm not done yet."

He shrugs his arm back and turns around to face me, his eye twitching.

"You don't think I know that I need to be serious? I understand, probably more than you, about the intensity of the situation. And what's that? You forbid it? Since when do you control me? I admit, maybe sitting with them wasn't the best thing to do, and I won't do it again, but only because I care about the family and our reputation, and _not_ because you 'forbid it' or whatever rubbish."

I start through the doors, then turn around. "Aren't you coming? We have to appear as the perfect family, don't we?"

He glares, then catches up to me and we walk through the doors appearing to be in a friendly conversation. We can't appear to be having a fight, after all. It would ruin our family's reputation.

We make our way to the Slytherin table and join his – ahem, I mean _our_ – friends.

"So, Ethelinda, we missed you on the train," Pansy says, in that annoying I'm-better-than-you voice.

I hold in a groan, because I'd hoped that I'd get to keep from talking to her at least until tomorrow. Instead, I give her a smile while gritting my teeth.

"Well, Pansy, I only wanted some solitude. I'd rather not sit in a compartment filled with _children_ ," I say in forced politeness, while giving her a pointed glare.

"You'd better watch your mouth," she hisses. "Things aren't going to be the same this year, you know."

"I know better than you," I say, managing to keep my tone polite. "And I definitely know enough to figure that talking about this in open in the middle of the Great Hall is probably not the best idea."

Someone coughs behind me, which suspiciously sounds like a snort.

"That would be smart," that someone says, sliding into the seat on my left.

"Hello Daphne," I greet, this time with actual politeness, considering the fact that Daphne and Astoria Greengrass are two of the few people I actually enjoy speaking with. She nods while Astoria takes the seat in front of me.

"So what were you talking about? I only heard the tail end of what you said."

"You shouldn't barrel into a conversation when you know nothing about what we were saying," Pansy says, smirking. Draco nods in agreement and shoots me a warning glare. One that says _keep in mind what we already talked about._ I ignore his look in favor of staring at my food as I eat, staying out of the conversation.

"I only joined in because Pansy had this utterly ridiculous look on her face," Daphne says to me, pretending to not notice Pansy.

I let out a grin but otherwise don't say anything back, and Daphne takes the hint and starts up a conversation with Astoria, leaving me to my thoughts.

Pansy seethes and turns to, in her words, "darling Draco." Those words were almost enough to make me vomit the first time I heard her say them in her whiny voice.

I ignore them as Dumbledore stands up to make his speech as usual. I ignore him too, at least until I hear a squeaky _hem hem._

I turn to look at the Head Table to see that one of the new teachers has stood up, intending to make a speech.

Oh, right. This must be the new Professor Umbridge. Uncle Lucius mentioned this to us before we left for Hogwarts. He had heard from Fudge that the Ministry was going to take a lot more interest in the school, and were sending one of their own to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I don't know quite what to make of this woman. She's rude, for sure. No one ever interrupts Dumbledore during his speech. _No one._ Well, I suppose she thinks she's an exception?

Her voice is sickly sweet, as if she is trying to talk to young children but doesn't quite know how to be nice to them. I drown out her speech and stare at my table, because even the bare surface is better to look at than all of that pink.

Whatever. It's not like it matters what she's saying anyway. Probably just a load of rubbish about the Ministry wanting the best for the students or something.

Well, it's not like her teaching would affect my studies here or anything. She's just another DADA teacher who will disappear after another year. I mean, the first one died, the second one ended up losing his memory, the third one had to leave after being exposed as a werewolf (despite being the most competent DADA teacher we've had so far), and the fourth was an impostor. Whatever bad luck is coming will happen to her after this year, and she'll be gone.

I just hope I'll be able to pass through this year peacefully.

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 **Please remember to review, favorite, and follow! That is, of course, if you want to. Please? :)**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: So I know it's been a while. I'm full of broken promises. Life is just too stressful. You can hate me if you want but please don't give up this story.  
Another thing is that my original vision for this story has changed a lot. It's going to be a lot more introspective probably, as you can see when you read this chapter. Not so much adventure actually so I'm probably going to change the genre. I'm sorry if you're looking for something with more action, but I've realized that that's not going to be the focus of this story. This chapter may be a bit confusing though, but I'll elaborate at the bottom of the chapter.  
Basically though, I've been thinking a lot about the direction I want to take this story in and Ethelinda has pretty much taken a mind of her own. I'm going to spend more time building friendships and connections between the characters for the beginning at least. And then romance will eventually come. Just letting you know now.  
And wow! This was a longer chapter than usual. It got so long because I wanted to focus on Ethelinda and what her logic and thinking is like to explain why she acts the way she does.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J.K. Rowling. I wish I was. That would be awesome!**

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Chapter 4

Nope, not a peaceful year at Hogwarts at all. I guess the Ministry is trying to take over the school.

And then the Dark Lord will take control of the Ministry, thereby taking control of Hogwarts and Harry Potter. I think the plan is going to go something like that. I don't really know.

I just want to stay out of it all. I support the Dark Lord's cause of course, but I'm just not interested in throwing away my life to declare loyalty to only him and fighting and killing people for him.

I just want to finish my education and live out the rest of my life in peace. Having a world ruled by Purebloods where the mudbloods are kept out is preferable, but I don't want to dedicate my life to the cause. I've got my own life, my own goals, and my own dreams.

Aunt Cissa told me once that my mother would have probably had many disagreements with me about this. She's absolutely dedicated to the Dark Lord. She proudly went to Azkaban. While Uncle Lucius and most other followers claimed to be Imperioused to keep out of the prison, my mother readily declared herself a Death Eater in front of the entire Wizengamot.

I don't know if I should consider her a role model for her determination and defiance and utmost loyalty, or a foolish person because her actions, along with my father's, led to their imprisonment and left me to be raised by my aunt and uncle. Is it bravery to proudly declare what you believe in to your enemies, or is it foolishness?

Either way, I know I wouldn't do something like that. If lying about my allegiances will keep me alive and safe and away from prison, I would.

I suppose it's no use thinking about this kind of thing anyway. I'd rather not do something to put myself in that situation, anyway. I'll just mind my own business and let other people work for a Pureblood-ruled future.

Draco is different. He's spent his whole life trying to be just like Uncle Lucius, and while I love my uncle, I can't see myself becoming like him or doing what he does. That's why Draco and I don't really get along. He likes to put himself at the center of attention, while I'd rather stay in the shadows. He dreams of being in the Dark Lord's inner circle, while I'd rather stay away from all of the action.

Today's Saturday. Most are outside enjoying the weekend before Sunday rolls around and they have to work on homework. Meaning, it's the best day to spend in the library, since no one else would be there.

Except for Mudblood Granger. I do hope today's one of the days she's not there. Although she probably is, seeing as within the first week of classes the teachers have assigned us enough work to last a lifetime. Aunt Cissa did say OWL year was brutal.

I open the door to the library, and of course, there she is, sitting there at one of the tables working, with that dreadful bushy hair falling all over her equally dreadful face. Doesn't she have anything better to do? Well, maybe that's a bit hypocritical, since I also have nothing better to do, but still. Ever since first year, I've spent my Saturdays in the library, save for Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch games. I don't mind the few Ravenclaws who spend their time in here as well, because they never say anything, but for some reason the Mudblood's presence is enough to tick me off. Well, there's the obvious fact she's a Mudblood; there's no reason for me to be tolerant of her inferior existence. Or perhaps it's because she is, considered by many, to be one of the smartest witches in the year. For a mudblood to have that honor…it doesn't make sense, and it's not natural.

But I deal with it. Instead of making a fuss about it or taunting her whenever I see her (unlike Draco) I just ignore her as best I can. Besides, if we're trying to convince people that Harry Potter is a liar and that the Dark Lord isn't back, wouldn't it be in our best interests to at least _pretend_ to get along with the Mudbloods? For now at least?

Oh well, I suppose there's nothing else to do but sit down in the library, even with her disgusting presence. Well, I did survive a train ride in the same compartment, I can manage the library.

I find a table in a secluded corner and set my bag down, pulling out my Transfiguration homework. I always try to finish homework for that class first since it's my worst class, so that I can save the easiest work for last and finish it quickly.

I've written about two sentences down for McGonagall's essay and I'm halfway done with the third when there's a _thump_ on the table and I look up.

It's Daphne. She's just put her books down on my table and is sitting down across from me, obviously intending to join me.

"What?' I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. I can stand Daphne, yes, but there's no excuse for interrupting my train of thought just as I was writing something acceptable on a difficult assignment. No excuse.

Daphne raises an eyebrow. "Do I need an excuse to sit here?"

"The library is virtually empty," I point out, gesturing to one of the many other tables she could have sat at, instead of interrupting my work.

She purses her lips. "Look, Ethelinda, I just wanted some company. Astoria is off somewhere with her friends, - lucky she is to not have to worry about homework - Pansy and Millicent are being annoying, Theodore and Blaise are off somewhere – probably with Malfoy, and Tracey is being her antisocial self in the common room. I wouldn't want to hang out with them anyway, but there's no one else and you always _love_ sitting on your pedestal acting _so_ superior to the rest of us," Her voice starts slowly rising and by the end she's almost shouting. "Friends? Hah! You act as if making a friend is too beneath you; as if it somehow makes you weak! So there's no one else to have a legitimate conversation with and sometimes it can be a little lonely feeling like you're the only one among your peers who has some sense! Can you blame me for wanting some company, even if it's with someone as emotionless as you?"

I barely have time to register everything she just said before I hear Madam Pince's voice right next to my ear. I drown it out and nod along with whatever she's saying, trying to make sense of Daphne's words. Do I really seem that emotionless? And, well, I don't put myself on a pedestal. I just don't prefer to interact with people I can't stand. Which is mostly everyone. Still, Daphne and I have never had any disagreements. Where is this coming from?

When the librarian is gone, after shooting us a glare for "disrupting the peace," Daphne has the good grace to look ashamed. She takes in a deep breath and won't look me in the eyes. "I uh, didn't mean to blow up at you."

I pretend to go back to working, although I can't really multitask. "Well it certainly seemed like you did."

"It's just been really stressful lately, what with it being OWL year and Professor Umbridge being less of a professor than a dictator. And–"

"And you needed an outlet," I say, knowing where she's going with this.

"Well…yeah, maybe. I mean, I get along with the others well enough, but the other girls usually just gossip and it gets annoying. I can't have a real conversation with any of them."

"So that makes me the outlet?" I ask, raising an eyebrow, although inwardly I have to agree with her.

"I just…" She stares into open space, deliberating. "You won't use this against me, will you?"

"I have no reason to at the moment, so no."

Daphne smiles, and opens up her textbook. We work in a mainly companionable silence for the next hour or so.

I don't exactly understand why Daphne is so desperate for company. I mean, I get along fine keeping all of my thoughts to myself, or when it gets really aggravating, I just vent by writing in my journal. Although I can also relate somewhat. The others in our year do get annoying, and there is virtually no one else I know whom I can have an intellectual conversation with except for Daphne. I suppose she sees us as similar, in that way.

It's just strange in that she had so readily shown me a weakness. Perhaps because she was raised in a family with less class than the Malfoys, or because we've shared a dorm for four years, and have exchanged quips on the rest of our Housemates, or maybe a mixture of all of that, she's more comfortable in showing her weaknesses to me. It's not like I'll use them against her anyway. Someone like Pansy would have taken advantage, but I don't really care about wielding power over another that way. Not right now, at least. And especially not Daphne, who is one of the few people I actually like. I've got my status within my House, and I don't need to refer to those tactics to keep it.

Some might say that I'm being unambitious for a Slytherin, but they can go stuff it. They care too much about trivial things that probably won't even last after we graduate. When we're out in the real world, then I might bother to care about power or whatever, but in the meantime, I'll stick to the sidelines.

Well, I guess she knows that, which is why she sought my company.

But there's just one thing.

"Daphne?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I really emotionless?"

"I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated."

"Liar."

She's been frustrated, yes. I can tell that something's been bothering her, and it's not just the stress from this year as she claims. But she meant what she said, I'm sure.

"Daphne, please, be honest with me."

She fidgets in her seat. "Look, you just, sometimes, come off that way. You never really talk to anyone, and if you do, it's all just in this kind of…I don't know how to explain it…this kind of detached politeness? Or else you're being snarky. You act somewhat like a robot, at least around us. I've seen you argue with Malfoy sometimes and that's the only time where I've seen some real emotions on you besides amusement at the silliness of our classmates. You're basically, well, a blank slate. After practically living together for the better part of four years, you and the other girls have probably figured out what kind of person I am. But with you, we know nothing about what kind of person you are. You're not particularly mean or arrogant like Malfoy, nor are you childish like Pansy."

"So basically, I'm emotionless because I don't express my emotions to people whom I have no reason to trust?"

"Well…I…I didn't mean…"

"You want to know what kind of person I am? Here's something: I don't readily express my emotions to people, especially not with people whom I barely even talk to. That doesn't make me emotionless or robotic."

Daphne opens her mouth, then clamps it shut. For a moment, I consider storming out in a huff, but decide that finishing my essay is more important than showing her how insulted I feel. We go back to working in silence, but instead of being companionable, it's tense.

When I finally finish, and start packing my things, Daphne speaks up.

"I didn't say you were emotionless. I said you seem that way. Besides, a normal person would have gotten angry at what I said. You don't seem angry at all. You actually don't seem to be feeling anything, actually."

"What I feel and what I show are two different things, Daphne," I practically hiss before walking out of the library. She wants me to show emotion? There, she's seen it.

It's Sunday. Yesterday was…interesting. Daphne and I have come to an unspoken agreement. We haven't mentioned the events of yesterday. And I've realized that maybe I do come off as a little too robotic. Still, is it wrong to keep my emotions to myself? To keep my thoughts, opinions, judgements, all to myself, so that no one else can use anything against me?

I liked Daphne. I still do, I guess, but I just can't understand her.

I'm currently walking near the Great Lake, to clear my thoughts and to get away from my Housemates. They're so frustrating!

"Hello, Ethelinda," A soft, dreamy voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I turn around, and there's Loony looking loony as usual.

"Lovegood," I greet reluctantly. "And when did I say you could call me by my first name?"

"You didn't."

Yes, this girl is definitely deserving of her nickname. She doesn't make any sense, and even though she's talking to me, her eyes are unfocused and she's staring into the distance behind me. I notice she's wearing earrings that look very much like radishes. How odd.

"What do you want?" It's no use trying to keep the hostile tone out of my voice. Besides, she's probably so out of it that she won't even realize I'm being hostile.

She doesn't say anything so I continue on my walk, when she joins me, matching my pace.

"Did I say you could join me?"

"No, but I wanted to."

What will it take for her to get the hint? Physical force, maybe? No, I can't fight another student. Is there anything else that would make her go away? Maybe I should just spell it out for her.

"Er, Loony–"

"My name is Luna, thank you."

I blink. I hadn't realized that what I call her in my head had slipped out. Not good.

"Excuse me, I meant Lovegood, anyway–"

"I don't think you're emotionless," She says abruptly. I inwardly groan as she cuts me off, _again_. That is, until her words sink in. I narrow my eyes.

"You were eavesdropping?!"

She tilts her head. "Hmm…not really. I just happened to be in the library, and you two weren't as quiet as you shouldn't have been, and I happened to be behind a shelf and unintentionally heard what Daphne said."

I purse my lips at that. "Don't mention it to anyone."

"Why would I? I have no reason to."

I stop walking, and turn to her. This time she's actually looking me in the eye. I'm surprised. She's always seemed to be in her own world, but now she seems more grounded than anyone else.

"What? You're not going to use it against me?"

"Am I supposed to?" She questions, raising a brow. I look down. I can't stare into her eyes anymore. Those knowing eyes that somehow know more than she lets on.

"Not everyone is like that, you know," she says. "What goes on in people's lives is their business."

I stare at the lake, not knowing what to make of that. We settle into a companionable silence.

I've always been surrounded by people that would use any weakness against you. My family has taught me that anyone will use anything against you if they have the chance.

So I decided not to be like that. If only to spite them. I knew that it was ridiculous, and it would be hard when everyone else is focused on doing that.

But Lovegood isn't like that either, I suppose.

I think surrounding myself with only the same type of people takes its toll on a person. If all of my friends are just like me, it's not like I'll actually gain any experience in life, will I?

That's why I haven't really taken part in the House rivalries that we have. No one ever gets to know different types of people. They'll only know people who have similar qualities as them.

No, I don't go gallivanting with people of other Houses, but I've never had the chance to, have I? People expect me to be like my mother. And I've failed at that. I'm not as outspoken.

And so of course the next thing they expect of me is to be like my aunt Narcissa. And on the outside, I guess I'm almost exactly like her, so people have been able to stay happy because that's how the world has always been and that's how it always will be.

And I stare at this Ravenclaw girl, the girl with the all too knowing eyes and the messy blond hair and radish earrings and decide right then and there that I don't want to be the person people expect me to be. There has to be a wrench thrown in somewhere eventually to disrupt things, and I'm going to be that wrench.

My life is bland. I know that, and I've never complained about it. I'm not saying nothing ever happens, oh no. A lot of things happen, the past few years have definitely shown that. But it's bland in the sense that I've never taken control of it. I'm on the sidelines of my own life. Other people, my aunt, my uncle, my parents whom I've barely met, and society has shaped my life, thrown me around like a rag doll.

I'm not going to do that anymore. My life is my life. I think that's why Daphne and probably others think I'm emotionless. I've never let my life be in control of my own hands, and I've always just gone along with everything that's happened, never once letting on that I don't want things to happen a certain way.

"Luna, are you free today?"

For once she looks surprised, but she nods and smiles.

"Do you want to hang out with me?"

* * *

 **So yeah. There it is! Ethelinda is making friends, yay! But she's really only doing it for herself at this point. I'm sorry if the way I wrote this chapter is a bit confusing, but basically Ethelinda is tired of being basically a robot in other people's lives and decides to take control of her life for the first time. And what better way than to make friends with the crazy Ravenclaw?**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, hopefully the next one won't take as long to update.**

 **Please review and follow!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, I know I'm horrible. Yes, it's been more than a year. Sorry *cringes* I didn't forget about this story, exactly...but I kind of pushed it to the back of my priorities. Sometimes I would open the document and just stare at it, wondering why I was even writing it. I almost deleted it a few times, but I've given up on a lot of things and hopefully this story won't be one of those things.**

 **Anyway, I don't even really know what I'm doing with this chapter, but I've already written chapters 6 and 7 (I just need to edit) and started chapter 8 so there won't be much of a wait. At least, not a year-long wait.**

 **I don't even know if anyone is reading this story. If you like it, please review! And if you don't like it, tell me why! I mean, I hope you won't be super mean but I appreciate constructive criticism.**

 **On with the chapter!**

 **Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Do I look like an amazing author with millions of fans? I only own Ethelinda and her story (although she'd beg to differ on that).**

* * *

Chapter 5

Why am I doing this? Really, why?

As soon as I came back to the common room yesterday, Draco had stomped over to me and demanded why he'd heard that I was seen with the "loony Ravenclaw girl."

I'd rolled my eyes and said that whomever he'd heard it from had been blind, but he didn't seem convinced although he'd let it go. "For now," he'd warned, glaring at me before storming up to his dormitory.

I'd spent the rest of yesterday with Luna. It was…interesting. We walked around the lake for a bit before she took me into the forest. Er, well, she tried to. I wasn't having it. No matter how curious I was about what Luna wanted to show me I was _not_ going into the Forbidden Forest! I was a coward, I know, but I can't trust _Luna Lovegood_ of all people to make good decisions.

I don't even really know why I've decided to befriend the absentminded girl. I want to take control of my own life, but is it really wise to just start becoming friendly with outcasts?

And especially since Luna is friends with a certain redhead. The she-weasel, as Draco likes to call her.

I know it's extremely stupid of me to forge any connection that will link me with the Weasleys, but it just feels so good to do something for myself for a change, without the influence of my family or my House or anything like that.

It's freeing.

And Luna isn't as absentminded as she seems. It's actually quite amusing to listen to her speak. She's interesting. Unpredictable. The other girls in my house are predictable, Daphne less so, and it's tiring to listen to their gossip all the time. With Luna, she'll say or do something when you least expect it.

In another life, in another world, where there is no Dark Lord, maybe, we could have been friends for a long time. Good friends since first year, even.

But there is a Dark Lord and he's back and whatever friendship I've just made with Luna will have to be short-lived.

I'm going back on what I thought earlier. I'm not brave enough. Not brave enough to be the wrench that will shake things up. I can't even look Draco in the eye and tell him that, yes, I was with Lovegood and her name is _Luna_ thank you very much and she's kind of my friend now.

I wanted to say that. I was going to. But the way he was glaring at me scared me, more than I'd care to admit. I looked indifferent to everyone else, but on the inside I was too afraid to make Draco any angrier. He'd resembled Uncle Lucius too much at that moment. He's not just a whiny brat now. He's…he's growing up, and not in the way that I'd like.

* * *

"Oi, Longbottom!" Draco calls. We're in the corridor that leads to the Potions classroom. Ever since our, er, _argument_ on the first day, and especially after his suspicions of my associating with Luna Lovegood, Draco's been keeping a close watch on me. Which means that instead of walking to Potions on my own, Draco insisted on coming along and he just _had_ to bring his two dumb friends with him too. But I always go to class early, which means there is no one else in the hallway right now.

I groan at the current situation. Draco always likes to take advantage of any situation. Not that I don't jump at any opportunity that I can to do what I want, but Draco's hobbies aren't exactly the same as mine.

And this situation just happens to be perfect for him. Longbottom is walking alone, and there is no one else in the corridor yet except Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and me. And Draco loves riling up the Gryffindors. It's his favorite pastime.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Longbottom retorts, glaring. Well, he's definitely grown a spine.

"Just wondering why you were alone," Draco said with a smirk. "Potter decided to ditch you, did he? Decided you weren't worth protecting?"

"I-" Longbottom turns pink, then he hurries down the corridor. Or he tries to, at least. Crabbe and Goyle move to block him, sporting identical grins on their faces.

Honestly, why does Draco pick on him so much? I don't see how someone could derive pleasure out of harassing someone else. I mean, sure, Longbottom is a blood traitor, but that doesn't mean we should be mean to him. He is a misguided pureblood, that's all.

And there's a war coming, that will provide plenty opportunities to be mean and more, but I try not to think about that. It's just easier that way.

Honestly, though, does Draco have any other hobbies besides lording his own superiority over everyone else?

Still, I do nothing.

Not when Longbottom pulls out his wand (although it's knocked away almost immediately), or when Draco taunts him again ("Looking for a fight, are you? As if you could even beat a first year!"), or when Draco pulls out his own wand.

It doesn't end in a bloody mess, at least, mostly because of the arrival of the Gryffindor half of the class, who take one look at the situation and pull out their own wands threateningly. Then the rest of the Slytherins also arrive, who immediately get on the defensive, and I'm wanting to disappear because what in the world how did taunts somehow escalate into this?

Still, I do nothing.

Like a coward, I sink to the ground and push myself against the wall, trying to simply avoid anyone and everything.

Fortunately, no one has the chance to throw more than a few hexes before being stopped by the sound of the door to the Potions room creaking open. Everyone hastily puts their wands away and pretends to look innocent, but nothing fools Snape.

"Fighting in the hallways?" He asks with a sneer. "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

Of course, no points from Slytherin. Never from Slytherin.

We all shuffle inside, with members of the two houses throwing glares at each other. That's nothing new. The only difference is that some sport pink hair and others suddenly have mustaches that extend to the floor and a few are dancing uncontrollably, but nothing serious. The Slytherins who were affected (Including Draco, who is suddenly growing long luscious locks from his fingernails) are sent to the Hospital wing, but the Gryffindors are told to "deal with it" and have to sit through the lesson.

Longbottom, whose face is half covered in boils, shoots me a glare as he cradles his face.

I…what?

Why me? Why not at Crabbe or Goyle or Pansy or Millicent, who're sitting around me? The ones who actually did something?

I look over across the classroom again, and, yep, he's glaring at me. Not them.

But what did I do? I didn't pull out my wand, I didn't cover his face in boils, I didn't start the altercation.

But I did nothing to stop it either. Maybe it's not that I didn't do anything to him, but that I actually did nothing at all.

But that's unfair to place something like that on me. I wasn't like Draco or the other Slytherins; I didn't hurt anyone, so why is he mad at me?

Is there another reason? Something I don't know about. I mean, I've been hit with glares when I've gone out in public sometimes, but it's usually because the owners of the glares knew my parents or something and were hurt by them-

Oh. Did he have someone close to him hurt by my parents? That's not entirely unlikely, to be honest.

That would explain why he's always avoided me. I mean, I thought it was just because he was scared, but he avoids me more than he does Draco, and Draco's the one who actually picks on him.

It really is unfair though. I know my parents have tortured people, but I'm not-I'm not like-I don't know.

I need to think about something else.

I sit down and barely pay attention to the class. I know I'll probably lose some marks over my terrible potion, but I can't seem to concentrate. I keep thinking about the hallway; about how I could've stopped it, stopped Draco before he got carried away, stopped the confrontation before all the other students arrived.

Stopped them before Snape could open the door.

Snape's obvious bias towards our House has never bothered me before, but why is it bothering me now?

I suppose because I know the Gryffindors didn't start the fight. That, yes, they may have had a part in escalating the situation, but I knew they weren't actually intending to jinx or hex anyone. They were just defending their housemate, and I knew Draco would have backed off, being outnumbered, but then the rest of our housemates had to show up at that precise moment and actually throw the spells at the others.

Stupid Draco. I love him, but he's still stupid.

The class ends, with Snape sneering at my potion but giving me an "Acceptable" anyway, but I know that if I weren't Ethelinda Lestrange, Slytherin fifth-year, but instead some Gryffindor, he would have given me a "Troll."

Snape is supposed to prepare us for O.W.L.s this year, and we won't be tested by him but some random examiner, so he really should be grading more fairly. After all, my abysmal potion in class today would have probably received a fail grade if I were in an actual O.W.L. test, and yet, Snape gives me a pass grade anyway.

I'm smart enough to know I have to work harder. But there are some students who aren't smart enough to not take Snape's scoring as an actual representation of their ability. So depending on what he marks them as, they'll either study a lot or not at all, regardless of whether that's something they should be doing. And that's unfair, because it means that Snape's not adequately preparing his students for O.W.L.s.

Why am I only realizing this now? It's no secret that Snape barely tolerates students, Slytherins more so, but still.

It feels like…like I'm an outsider looking at my own life right now. Like I'm standing above everyone else, being able to see things clearly and precisely and pointing out to myself exactly everything that's wrong with the situation.

I shake my head to clear that ridiculous notion. I really shouldn't be dwelling on unimportant things such as Snape's biasness or whatever. Since when have I ever cared about the other students anyway? If they're not smart enough than that shouldn't be my problem.

Yet when we leave the room, I can't seem to get rid of the sudden dislike I hold for the professor, or the dislike for my cousin.

Yeah, sure, I've been annoyed and exasperated by Draco…but this time I'm actually feeling _dislike_ for him. Real dislike.

What's going on with me today? I don't know.

I think…

 _Do I actually feel bad for Longbottom?_

I'm surprised to realize that I do, a little bit. After all, he's been on the end of Draco's taunts since we stepped foot in this school, and he's always been softer than, say, Harry Potter, who was always able to just shrug the insults away.

But I have to know why he was glaring at me…with so much hate, so much malice. I'd never seen the mild-mannered Longbottom ever face anyone with so much detestation in his eyes.

Why do I keep thinking about that? It was one moment, one moment among the millions in my life, and yet I'm wondering about how my parents might have wronged a kid who my cousin bullies?

But then, I've seen him around with Luna sometimes since the start of the year, and if I'm going to be on good terms with Luna for now, I should probably be on good terms with him too.

Right?

Oh, what the heck, I'm just making excuses for myself. I've never just done something _for me_ , so this is something new. I'm curious, I'm scared, I'm angry all at once, and I want to know why he's misdirecting his hatred at me. It has nothing to do with Luna or anyone else. Just me.

For the rest of the day, I'm mixed between talking myself down from approaching Longbottom and convincing myself to actually do it.

I don't even know what I want. Merlin, this must be why Daphne was so frustrated with me the other day.

But then dinner comes and I spy Longbottom leaving the Great Hall without his friends or anything.

I make to get up as well, but Draco pulls me back down (Thankfully with hairless fingernails).

"What's wrong?" He asks softly, and I'm surprised to hear genuine concern in his voice.

"Er, nothing?" It comes out more as a question.

"You've been distracted all day, ever since Potions-oh." Then he smirks. "Were you worried about me? Is that it? Don't worry, Pomfrey fixed up my fingers and I'm good now, really."

"What makes you think I was worried about you?" I say bitingly. "You're not the center of my world, you know."

This makes him frown. "I was just joking. You could bear to be nicer sometimes."

I sigh. "I'm sorry, Draco. I've just had a lot on my mind lately and honestly, I'm still kind of mad at you because you didn't have to cause that scuffle outside Potions and I'd really hoped you would be more mature this year. But yeah, I could bear to be a bit nicer, I guess."

He looks down. "Well," he says finally. "At least we agree on one thing."

"Which is that?" I ask with a grin. "The part about you needing to act more mature?"

He swats my shoulder. "No, idiot, the part about being nicer. How about you start…now!"

I roll my eyes but smile anyways, then grab my bag and get up. "I'm full," I say as an explanation. "And I'd really like to get a head start on homework."

Draco rolls his eyes but lets me go, and Daphne waves with a smile, while Blaise warns me not to lose my way.

That's an inside joke, referring to my directionally challenged first year self, who'd gotten lost trying to find the Great Hall, the Slytherin common room, the Potions classroom…just about everywhere. I know my way around now, but they won't stop teasing me about it.

It's annoying, but I don't mind it as much anymore.

Now, to find Longbottom. Where could he be-

I find him not far from the Entrance Hall, wandering the corridor with a strange, unfocused look in his eyes. The look on his face reflects how lost I feel inside, and I wonder if maybe he's been thinking as much as I have today.

"Er, Longbottom?" I call out hesitantly.

His attention snaps to me, and I suddenly realize this is the first time I've ever spoken to him.

He sighs, resigned. "What do you want, Lestrange?" I don't miss the hostility in his voice, though.

 _What is your problem?_

"Erm…I don't know?" I hadn't actually decided what I was going to say, exactly. I mean, what was I supposed to say, _oh, I was just wondering why you were glaring at me today? Why you hate me so much without actually speaking to me?_

That was laughable.

He blinks at this, then leans against the wall, and I suddenly register the circles under his eyes and how exhausted he looks.

"Just say what you want to say, please. I'm not in the mood for a fight."

I lean against the wall to as well, a little to his right, not too close, but he still shuffles away. "I'm not in the mood for a fight, either, Longbottom."

"Okay, then what are you here for?"

"What are you here for, then?" I shoot back. "Just randomly wandering a corridor instead of eating dinner?"

He slides down the wall and sits, cradling his knees forward. "I wanted to think."

I mimic his movements, sliding down as well. "Me too."

"But you came to find me because…?" He asks without looking at me.

"Do you hate me, Longbottom?" I ask, thinking _to hell with it, I'll just be blunt._

"Shouldn't the answer to that be obvious?" The hostile voice is back.

"Why?" I finally ask, gathering up the courage to say it. "It's not like I've personally done anything to-"

" _Haven't done anything_? Are you joking?" He asks with a sharp, humorless laugh. "You and your cousin are basically the only reason I've never been able to fully enjoy Hogwarts, not to mention what your crazy family did to mine, and that's not even counting what you did today!"

 _What is he going on about?_

"My cousin may bully you all the time, but have I ever personally expressed any of the same sentiments towards you?" I ask carefully, and for once he seems little uncomfortable.

"Standing there doing nothing means that you agree with him, though," he says finally.

 _I…he's not exactly wrong, though. When have I ever indicated that I feel differently than Draco?_

"You mentioned my family. What did they do?"

He finally turns his head to look at me, confusion seeping into the hatred. "Wait. You don't _know?_ " He asks incredulously.

"Know what?" And for the first time, I feel a little stupid. What does he know about my parents that I don't?

"You don't know why your parents went to Azkaban, then?"

"Er, of course I do. They were caught as Death Eaters," I say, cringing at the words "Death Eaters," because while everyone knows it to be true, no one outside of my family really speaks aloud about it. Not to my face, anyway.

"Right, but do you know what exactly they were caught doing? What the specific crime was?" He asks impatiently.

"I…they've committed a lot of crimes. I know that. I know they…hurt a lot of people. I never bothered to look into specifics," I say honestly, feeling very wrong-footed in this conversation. "What did they do to your family?" I ask softly.

He turns away. "I…if you really don't know, it's probably best I don't tell you."

"Okay," I drop it. "But then…the last thing you said…what did I do to you today?"

He hits me with another disbelieving look. "I-do you really not understand that trying to _crucio_ people makes them not like you?"

"Hold on, _what?_ " I hold up a hand, shocked. He thought I tried to _crucio_ him? Was he insane, or just messing with me? "I didn't-I never-I didn't even pull out my wand during that fight today, what makes you think I tried to tor-torture you?"

"I…I thought it was you," he mutters, just barely loud enough for me to hear. "During the fight…someone near me…a girl…I had a wand poking into my back and I heard her say _crucio_ …but I guess Moody, or, well, I mean Crouch was right last year when he said you really had to mean it, because I didn't feel anything."

"I…wow," I say, not knowing quite what else to say. "I didn't think anyone would do that…I mean, I thought everyone stuck to the simple, funny jinxes like hair growing on fingernails…but why would someone even risk an Unforgivable? Are you sure that's what you heard?"

He nods.

But then something else registers.

"You thought it was me," I realize. "You didn't even see the girl's face yet you were almost, no, you _were_ certain it was me."

"I-I'm sorry-I didn't mean-I mean," He breathed in slowly. "I thought…when I was trying to narrow down who it could've been, I realized I didn't see you at all during the fight, and you were left completely unscathed at the end…so I thought-I thought maybe you resorted to those tactics, or something, or…or…I…that wasn't justified. Sorry."

"Stop making excuses, Longbottom," I sneer. "It wasn't because of any of that. It's because of my last name, plain and simple."

He doesn't even try to deny it, just looks guilty and…thoughtful?

"I may not know the details of my parents' crimes but I know that my Mother's favorite curse was the Cruciatus and that she didn't use it sparingly," I say harshly, probably too harshly. "But that doesn't mean-that doesn't mean anything for me."

"Well how am I supposed to know that?" He snaps. "I'm sorry, okay? I already apologized, for Godric's sake."

I do the most unexpected thing. I laugh. He looks scandalized, until I stand up, brushing off my robes, and hold out my hand to him. "Apology accepted, Longbottom. I have to say, you have much more of a spine than I thought," I say with a grin.

"Er, thank you? I guess…" He says, accepting my hand and allowing me to pull him up.

As we're about to part ways, I speak up. "But you know, if there was one person who'd attempt _crucio_ , it'd probably be Pansy. But whoever it actually was…" I trail off. While my housemates are annoying, I don't like badmouthing them to people outside of our house. I mean, we're like a family. A dysfunctional family, but still.

Besides, was it really a Slytherin classmate that did that? It could've been Gryffindor.

No, that's ridiculous. This was a fight between the houses, so that wouldn't make any sense.

"You really mustn't judge her too harshly," I tell him. He just shakes his head, disbelieving.

"She attempted the Cruciatus. What am I supposed to think?"

"She is also a fifteen year old girl. How many fifteen year olds make good decisions?" I ask, eyebrow raised. "Besides, you said yourself that you didn't feel anything. That means she didn't really mean it."

He sighed. "And you expect me to just forgive her for this? Really?"

"I didn't say that," I protest. "I don't expect you to forgive someone for that…Just…maybe hear me out and then place your judgement?"

"Okay…"

"My take is this, and to be honest, I'm probably right," I say. "I'm thinking she was curious, probably remembering Moody – Crouch – demonstrating the curse, and wondering if she was capable of it, what it felt like to curse someone with that. Then saw you, and figured it was a chance, because there were so many people, it could easily have been blamed on someone else if you told. And she probably grew up in a household where the Unforgivables weren't so unforgivable. But then she said the curse, and realized she didn't have enough hatred in her to commit to it, and maybe even regretted it afterwards."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure it wasn't you?"

I laugh. "Positive. I was there, wasn't I?"

What was I doing, joking with _Neville Longbottom_ as if it were completely normal?

We both come to our senses and the smiles fall from our faces a few moments later, which is just as well, as soon the sound of the trample of hundreds of feet reach our ears. I mutter a quick "night" before rushing in the direction of my common room, not wanting to be seen by everyone coming back from dinner _laughing_ with Neville Longbottom.

What has gotten into me, honestly?


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: So I know I just posted a chapter yesterday but as an apology of sorts for not updating for more than a year, I'm posting two chapters today. After that, though, I'm hoping to stick to a weekly schedule. I'm just sending the last of my college applications today, too, so I'll be less busy and stressed anyway.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own, I'm not JK, only Ethelinda is mine.**

* * *

Chapter 6

I want to die.

Okay, no, I don't.

But Draco is acting so different these days.

I don't want to be like them. Not like Draco, not like Uncle Lucius, not Aunt Cissa…none of them.

And from what I've heard about my own parents…well, I don't want to be like them either.

Can't I just be my own person? But I can't, because my name and my face will always be attached to my family.

When people see me, they usually first assume I am like my mother. They see my face and my crazy hair and see my mother instead of me. Well, the older generation anyway. The ones who were alive before she went to Azkaban, the ones who had maybe run into her before, the ones who maybe had even known her personally. Maybe even…the ones who'd been tortured at her hands.

They expect me to be rude and blunt. Harsh with my words. Mean and cruel, even to people who I'm supposed to be nice to. They expect me to be the kind of person who bullies others and threatens them and doesn't care about rules and…to be someone without love. At least that's what I know from what I have gathered. To think that there are many people who know my own mother better than me…to me she is just a stranger. A stranger whom Aunt Cissa speaks fondly of, even when the rest of the world seems to either fear her or loathe her or both.

It's funny that they expect me to be like her when she wasn't even the one who raised me. We've never even met (Well, once, on a Ministry-approved visit, escorted by Aurors flanked on each side, and I was four years old and the memory has all but faded away completely).

The second person people will then turn to is my father. But like my mother, I know next to nothing about him. I actually know a lot less about him than my mother. I know that he wasn't the smartest person in school, but he was resourceful, and that he was not a man of action. He preferred being in the background. Aunt Cissa said once "He made the plans and Bella carried them out. They made a good team." I suppose I'm similar to him in that way, because I've also always been in the background. But he was cruel; I know that much. He was cruel but charming, fooling people easily into trusting him, liking him. I'm not like that. I don't bother to charm people, or get them to trust me; I don't bother to slip on a mask to fake my personality. I just remain distant instead.

After that people will then think of Aunt Cissa, and then find themselves satisfied. They will compare my quiet nature to that of hers, and believe that we are one and the same. They won't bother actually getting to know me, to find out that I am actually very different from my Aunt.

But these kinds of judgements usually happen outside of Hogwarts, and usually with people my parents have to interact with. With the general public, they'll just write me off as another Lestrange (or Malfoy).

People at school, however…they're quite judgemental.

Even though we're in the same year, I'm often the one who remains in Draco's shadows. He has a much louder presence among our peers, and I suppose that's why people assume that I must be just like him. I've never bothered to make my own presence, to make a name for myself. And that may have been a mistake.

And I think of Luna, who's always so incredibly knowing while being so impossibly crazy, and of Daphne, who's a conflicting mixture of frustrating, emotional and cool, and I wonder; how is it that I get along better with a blood-traitor from Ravenclaw than a pureblood from my own house?

Why am I always on the sidelines anyway? Why have I never taken control of my own life?

I think back to what caused this train of thought and sigh.

The fact that – that Longbottom would immediately think of – think of _me_ as the one who cast the _crucio…_

Maybe if I…if I actually took control of my life…people wouldn't think that of me.

Because as much as I like to say that what people think doesn't bother me…it sort of does. I hate it. I hate seeing the hate and fear in people's eyes. I hate the way they shuffle away from me when I walk past. I hate the way that trying to become invisible to people has only made their perceptions of me more visible. That fading into the background hasn't actually allowed me to be the non-presence I've always wanted to be. Instead, all it's done is allow people to see me with their own perceptions of me, through their own judgmental eyes. If I…if I _did_ make myself a presence…maybe people would actually see me.

But that's just it. I don't even know who I am anymore.

* * *

It's Saturday again. I head to the library again. It's only the second week of O.W.L. year and yet the professors are acting like it's the week right before exams, looking at the number of essays we've been assigned this week. That's not even counting all the other homework in addition to essays.

Ugh, I hate school.

Especially since as of this Monday Umbridge is now the High Inquisitor, a role that basically means she will inspect the teachers and go running to Fudge if she doesn't approve of something.

She's been inspecting our classes and honestly, it's quite annoying. But I have to be nice to her because being related to Death Eaters, it's in my best interest to keep Umbridge liking me so that she and Fudge will remain oblivious to the Dark Lord coming back.

That doesn't mean I actually like her, though. She's teaching us nothing! Absolutely nothing. I want to be able to defend myself properly, but Fudge is actually dumb enough to think Dumbledore is creating an army to take over the Ministry. Or, at least, that's what Uncle Lucius told me. It's a ridiculous idea. If Dumbledore wanted Fudge's position, he wouldn't use an army. There are much less violent ways to take over.

I sigh and go to my usual table in the library, hoping Daphne doesn't show up this time.

She doesn't.

But Draco does. As morning drifts into afternoon, I consider going to lunch, but for some reason, I'm not hungry so I stay.

"Ethelinda!" I look up, to see the smirking face of my cousin leaning over the table. As usual, Crabbe and Goyle are behind him, ever the loyal bodyguards.

"What is it, Draco?" I sigh, rubbing my forehead. I think I have a headache coming on.

His smirk widens. "Well, you see, the Gryffindor Quidditch team is out practicing again, and we wanted to go and, well, you know, cheer them on," He says, grinning slyly. "You should come too. It was really fun last week."

Oh, no. I'd heard all about the same thing last week, when I'd been in here with Daphne. Apparently, the Slytherin Quidditch team and a few others had, well, watched the Gryffindors during their practice last week. And by Draco's look of pure happiness on his face as he told the story, I'd figured that they'd probably insulted the other team until they couldn't play well. Or something like that.

But no, that wasn't enough apparently. No, Draco wanted to go again. And he wanted me to go too? Seriously?

When had I ever given the impression that I wanted to join him on his eternal quest to prove himself better than the Gryffindors?

But then again, I'd never given the impression that I _didn't_ approve of it. I'd always just tagged along if I happened to be with Draco when he started picking on people of other houses.

Honestly, when was the last time I'd ever actually spoken my own mind to him? There was that incident after the train this year, but besides that…

"Why?" I hedge. "You know I'm not really for that sort of thing."

"You aren't?" Draco raises an eyebrow, disbelieving. "You mean to say you'd rather sit here and work on-" He glances at my paper and wrinkles his nose as he reads "-the 'Various Varieties of Venom Antidotes?'"

"Yes, actually."

He straightens up, giving me an unreadable look. "Well," he says finally. "You were a lot more fun when we were younger. Now it's all homework and books and keeping to yourself."

"I-Draco," I say, but he just shakes his head and walks out, Crabbe and Goyle hurrying after him without another glance my way.

 _What even?_

But I do know what he's talking about. When we were younger, the two of us would spend a lot of time together, we'd always go play outside and we stuck to each other.

But as we got older, he got more annoying and as we started Hogwarts, he started spending more time with Crabbe and Goyle and I naturally started to spend more time alone. Why does he suddenly care now?

Is it because of the beginning of this year? Because he realizes that maybe I am very different than the person he thought I was?

When even my own cousin doesn't know me anymore, how can I say I even know myself at all?

Daphne is right. I am an empty shell, devoid of having any sense of self.

I stare down at my essay. I really can't do this. I need air.

I pack up my things, telling myself I'll finish later, and wander outside, enjoying the sun that my pale skin rarely sees these days. I end up walking along the Great Lake again.

"Hello, Ethelinda." I turn around, unsurprised to see Luna. She really has a knack for finding me when my thoughts become too much, doesn't she?

"Hi, Luna," I greet, warmly this time.

We walk along the lake together. I do enjoy her company, as much as I'd rather not admit that. But she's not as insane as people say. Sure, she has crazy theories and believes in creatures that don't exist but…she's more observant than she gets credit for.

Luna breaks the silence. "What are you thinking about?"

I look down, shrugging.

"Nothing important," I lie, although it doesn't come as easily as it would normally. Perhaps because it's Luna, and she's already shown herself to be able to look through me.

"Are you sure?" She asks seriously. "You look as if you've been infected by a wrackspurt."

"A wrack-what?"

"Wrackspurt," Luna explains matter-of-factly, "It's an invisible creature that can float through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy."

"I…see…" I say, not sure if she's messing with me or not.

"Good thing there's an easy way to get rid of them," Luna says brightly. "Just make sure to think positive thoughts until you can become focused again."

"Er…" I look away, trying not to laugh, but also strangely touched by her concern. "Thank you, Luna."

 _Think positive thoughts?_

When was the last time I was happy? Not simply not feeling sad, but actually, truly, happy?

 _I really am emotionless. Daphne is right._

I think back to when I was younger. When I was too young to know of the Dark Lord, to know about the complexities of pureblood society, when it was just Uncle Lucius and Aunt Cissa and Draco and me. When I actually felt that…that I was enough. That I didn't have to try to earn their approval for anything. When I didn't feel like I was invisible, like I was seen as someone else in front of them. When I didn't have to hold back disapproval at the way Draco acted towards others, or that I had to remain silent whenever Uncle Lucius went on tirades about Mudbloods and when he reminisced about his Death Eaters days, when I didn't have to hold back my fear and horror when I learned the Dark Lord was back.

I smile, thinking of those old memories. Of receiving my first broom and racing Draco on it – he won, but I was still happy.

Or of holidays spent together, when the four of us would stay up all night with hot chocolate and Aunt Cissa would tell stories of the hijinks that she and my mother had gotten into at Hogwarts. I would sit in Aunt Cissa's lap and Draco in Uncle Lucius', and we'd eventually fall asleep in front of the warm fire.

It was simple – there was no worrying over an unknown future, over choices that would have to be made. There was no feeling like I didn't belong. No feeling like I was intruding on a family of three.

I realize that I can't do this – this future that my aunt and uncle want for me. The future that I'm sure my parents want for me. The future that Draco wants for himself.

I can't kill people. I can't. I'm different from Draco. I'm different from my aunt and uncle and mother and father. I can't do the same things they are doing. I'm not a blood-traitor, but…I've always thought killing people was too far.

But what if the Dark Lord wants me to join him when I'm older? There's no way I could refuse him.

But what if it's not necessary? What if we don't actually have to resort to such actions in order to, in Uncle Lucius' words, "take back the wizarding world?"

For the Dark Lord…if I'm not with him, then that must mean I am against him.

If only I could be neutral. Oh, if only I could. But my family name prevents me from being able to be neutral. Daphne's family was neutral in the last war, and so of course she'll probably remain the same in the coming one. And Pansy's family was neutral too, but this summer her father had more than just a few visits to Malfoy Manor to meet with Uncle Lucius, and she knows about the Dark Lord's coming back, so…she probably won't be neutral in this war. But as long as her family doesn't become directly involved, it probably won't affect her. Not as much as it will affect me.

But my family was not neutral. They took one side, and I will never be allowed to remain in the middle, no matter how desperately I want to.

If I don't want to kill people…then I'll have to join the opposite side.

But I'll lose everything if I do. I'll lose my aunt and uncle and cousin. I'll lose my Slytherin friends – because as much as I hate on them and complain about them, I've lived with them for more than four years and they are a sort of pseudo family.

I don't want this. It's unfair to expect a fifteen year old to make huge life-changing decisions. But a war is coming and as much as I don't want to think about it I'll have to, sooner or later.

"Luna," I say suddenly. "No offense, but I'd really like to be alone right now."

She smiles and nods understandingly. "Wrackspurts still there? Don't worry, they'll go away eventually."

"Right," I mutter vaguely as she skips away.

So I have a few things I can do at this point. A few decisions to choose from.

One: Let the future come and see what happens. But that probably means waiting until the Dark Lord comes into the open and then of course he'll expect me to be his follower– my mother, after all, was his right-hand woman. And I can't do that. I can't see myself in that bleak future. I mean, even if I make myself out to be as useless to the cause as possible, I'll still be expected to support the Dark Lord, and even if I don't actually have to _do_ anything myself…

I'm reminded of the incident that happened right before Potions a few days ago. About how even though I didn't do anything, I still felt guilty. I can't do nothing anymore. I can't just sit back and pretend I'm perfectly okay with everything.

So that option is out. Which means…

Two: Leave the country. Leave magical Britain, go into hiding. But that's similar to doing nothing, isn't it? I mean, sure, by leaving, I'll be sending the message that I'm not okay with the Dark Lord's actions, but I'll still be doing nothing to stop him.

So that leaves…

Three: Joining the other side.

I should've seen this coming, honestly. But I didn't want to think about the coming war, at all. But that's just it. I have to think about it.

I don't want to leave my family, my housemates. I don't want to leave everything I've ever known.

But if I don't want to kill people, I'll have to leave them at one point.

There's only one thing left for me to do, really.

But I don't want to do it. It's too soon.

So I'm going to pretend to go along with my family until I really _do_ have to leave. I'm going to pretend everything is fine until the moment comes when pretending won't be enough anymore. Or, just hope that the Dark Lord loses the war before it even becomes a war, before I become older, before the point when I have to carry out that decision.

That is my future.

It's bleak, for sure. But I can't…I can't even consider the idea of becoming a killer…or supporting a killer…

I don't know how Aunt Cissa does it. She never joined the Death Eaters herself but her husband, sister, and brother-in-law were all Death Eaters. Despite that, she still supported them until the end. And she will continue to support them forever.

I'm not like Aunt Cissa. I can't support the evil actions of others, even if said others are the people I love, my only family.

I wonder though…if she ever felt the same way I do, or if she actually supports the killing. I don't know, but it's not like I could ever ask her.

So I've made my decision. No more confusion.

Maybe Luna was on to something; thinking positive thoughts helped me clear my mind, to realize what my true priorities are.

Or maybe she is insane.

But that's okay. I think.

* * *

 **If you liked this chapter, please review and follow!**

 **Thank you!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Like I said last chapter, from now on I'll try to stick to updating weekly from now on, now that I'm done with the horribleness that is college applications. Ugh.**

 **Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter that would be AWESOME. But if I wrote it, it would be a horrible mess of plot holes and badly written characters, so never mind.**

* * *

Chapter 7

"You were out with Loony again!" Draco accuses, as soon as I get back to the common room. "Blaise saw you!"

"What about it?" I say, not bothering to deny it this time. So what if I was with Luna? So what? Why did it matter so much who my friends were?

He glares. "You've been acting weird since school started. What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?" I shoot back. "Since when did you care about my life?"

He's taken aback at this, and that offers me enough time to escape into my dorm, where I know he can't follow me, because of the old founders' rule that decided boys were less trustworthy than girls, and causes any boy who tries to get into the girls' dorms to end up with blisters all over his body. Well, at least for Slytherins, anyway. I don't know about other houses.

I'm being unfair, I know, but Draco is being insufferable. The only time he's ever taken an interest in my life was if I was acting "weird" or doing something "dishonourable." And I suppose hanging out with Luna Lovegood instead of making fun of Gryffindors at Quidditch practice counts as both.

Daphne and Pansy were talking, and abruptly stop when I enter.

"What?" I ask, as they're both giving me looks.

"We heard you were out with Loony," Pansy says, smirking. Daphne just turns away.

"What about it?" I say, plopping onto my bed.

"Well, besides the fact that she's completely mad, Loony's friends with that Weasley girl," Pansy says, "I've seen them together."

"And?" I say.

"Well – just," Pansy sighs exasperatedly. "Daphne, help me out here!"

Daphne avoids my eyes as she says. "Weasleys are blood-traitors; everyone knows that. And all of their friends are blood-traitors too."

"Exactly," Pansy says smugly, "So, care to explain?"

"No," I say, and her smile drops, "I don't owe you an explanation for the things I do."

Pansy looks me up and down, surprised. "Draco's right. You _have_ been acting weird."

I shrug, "Oh, well."

Pansy just huffs and continues to have a hushed conversation with Daphne, who's still looking anywhere but at me.

I fall into a restless sleep, trying to forget Draco's harsh glare.

What happened to us? The way he…seems to hate me, just for being seen with Luna Lovegood.

When did we stop understanding each other?

The next morning, I search through the old copies of the _Daily Prophet_ , finding no luck.

Agh, ever since I'd spoken to Longbottom about my parents I've been curious of the specific crime that put them into Azkaban.

And…okay, I know it might be considered prying…or, well, clearly Longbottom doesn't like talking about it, but…

They're my parents. I deserve to know.

Honestly, why haven't I ever bothered to know before?

I mean, when Aunt Cissa and Uncle Lucius spoke of it, they just told me in vague terms that my parents went to Azkaban because they were Death Eaters and I made the reasonable assumption that they tortured and killed people. Once, I did ask, out of curiosity, but they sort of hedged away from the question and told me again that my parents were Death Eaters and didn't lie about being Imperiused like Uncle Lucius did. So I accepted that and went on with my life.

So I stopped wondering what their specific crimes were. It was too much for me, honestly, to even know that my parents were…not the best people, to put it lightly. I realized, after hearing the story of their imprisonment, that I didn't even want to know exactly what they did. I didn't want to place names and faces onto their victims, because that would make it more real. It would make real the fact that my parents actually hurt other people.

So currently, I'm in the library, searching the shelves in the back where they keep old newspapers. I'm sitting on the floor, surrounded by newspapers on each side, trying to sort through all of them.

My parents were incarcerated in November of 1981, almost fourteen years ago.

I wonder what they would think of me now. I wonder what my childhood would've been like if they were not caught; if they weren't thrown in Azkaban, if I was raised by them instead of my aunt and uncle.

Would I still be the same person I am now? Or would their cruelty, the cruelty I've heard of so much, be ingrained into me?

Would I feel as lonely as I do now? Or would I feel lonelier, because I would've never become so close to my aunt and uncle and cousin if I were raised by my parents?

Then I find it.

They're on the front page of a yellowed and ripped _Daily Prophet_. Well, there are four pictures; one of each of my parents, one of Rebastan Lestrange (who's my uncle, I remember with a jolt), and the largest one is of a young man with straw-colored hair and freckles, who appears to be being dragged by Aurors out of a chair that has chains on each side. I have to squint, but discern that the caption underneath reads _Bartemius Crouch Jr., son of Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, protesting his sentence right after his trial led by his father._

The headline is a bit easier to read, but it hasn't escaped the fading caused by time.

 _BARTY CROUCH JR. ARRESTED WITH BELLATRIX, RODOLPHUS, AND REBASTAN LESTRANGE FOR TORTURE OF ACCOMPLISHED AURORS, THE LONGBOTTOMS_

I blink. Of course, I was expecting something like this.

But that doesn't make it any less of a shock to read it. To read the words, along with my mother's giggling face and my father's smirk.

I focus on the pictures first, before reading the article. I've seen pictures of them before, of course, around the manor and Aunt Cissa has no shortage of them…but this…they look different. The captions tell me these pictures were also taken right after their trial. And yet, they both stand tall, despite being yanked around by Aurors on each side. They both look proud. Defiant. Brave.

I've always been told I look like my mother, and seeing pictures of her, I do agree. I have her thick, shiny black hair instead of my father's messy brown hair. And her face.

I've always been told I have my father's smile, though. And I don't know how to feel about that. I have his eyes, too. Dark brown, while my mother's are slightly lighter, but not by much. And my jawline is more like his, with my mother's being more sharply defined.

Rebastan is like a softer version of my father, with blond instead of brown hair. His face is rounder, less severe. But his smirk is just the same.

The only one that doesn't look as smug is Barty Crouch Jr. His eyes are flitting around fearfully, his mouth opening and closing but it's just a picture so I can't hear.

But it's just a ruse, I know. After all, he broke out of Azkaban and took down and impersonated Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, one of the best and well-known Aurors, for eight months.

I finally decide to read the article, hoping it's not too bad.

But these are my parents, so of course it's bad.

As I read it through, I can hardly believe it. I feel like throwing up.

No wonder he avoids me. No wonder he hates me. No wonder…

I feel sick. Why, why, _why_ do my parents have to be so…so…terrible?

Of course, I've always known what my parents did. But I've always been able to disassociate from it, because Death Eaters were doing good, Death Eaters were doing what was necessary, even if it was unpleasant, Death Eaters were cleansing the world.

And I never bothered to learn the names of my parents' victims, because maybe if their victims remained as just numbers, as just mere statistics, I could avoid thinking of them as actual _real people_ who've been hurt my parents.

But this…how was this necessary? How was this good? How was this cleansing the world?

My parents just…they tortured actual, living, breathing, feeling _people_ for information, and when they didn't get it, they didn't just stop…no, they continued to torture and torture and torture until their victims went insane.

Longbottom has every right to hate me.

But I'm…I'm not like my parents, am I?

I would never…torture someone for the fun of it…or even just to get information…I wouldn't do that…

Then why do I feel so guilty?

I jump up, knowing I need to find Longbottom as soon as I can.

But first, I realize, I have to clean up this mess. Madam Pince will ban me from the library if she sees the newspapers still scattered all over the floor.

Grudgingly, I pick up the fallen papers, trying to organize them back into the shelves.

 _Idiot. You're just stalling_.

I am stalling. Part of me wants to see Longbottom now, but the other part of me is afraid. I don't even know what I would say to him, or what he would say back, or even his reaction to me finding out.

As I finish clearing up the area, I look at my watch, noting with surprise that it's already lunch time.

Well, I figure I might as well go and see where Longbottom goes after lunch. It's a Sunday, after all; he might go outside or something.

I'm distracted all throughout lunch, trying very hard to pretend I'm not glancing over at the Gryffindor table every few seconds to see if he's left lunch yet. But no, he's still there, surrounded by Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

 _What's so great about them?_

Then Longbottom stands up and walks towards the doors, and I see my chance. I say a quick "Goodbye!" to Draco and the others at the table, muttering that I'm going to the library, and follow him out.

I hesitate, though, when I see him crossing the entrance hall.

Honestly, what am I doing? What will I say? I'm sorry? I'm sorry that my parents are the reason you were raised without yours?

 _Yeah, that'll go over well._

He hates me. He won't want to see me. So why am I insisting on following him?

Oh, what the heck, I'll follow him. If he gets mad at me…then fine.

I keep my footsteps light, keeping more than a few meters away, curious when I see that he's not going upstairs to where I know Gryffindor's common room is somewhere, but instead he's heading to the front doors.

Well, it's not curfew yet. We're still _allowed_ to be outside.

I follow him all the way out the doors, to where he suddenly turns and heads towards the greenhouses.

To my surprise, he pulls out keys from his robes and opens one of the greenhouses.

 _Sprout must like him a lot, huh?_

He slips inside and I hesitate. This is my last chance to turn around and forget. To forget about my parents and his and to just go on with my life.

I gulp. I can be brave, right? I can…do something for myself.

My parents have done so many horrible things, and I've realized…I don't _want_ people to think I'm like them. I don't _want_ to be seen as a mini-Death Eater. I don't _want_ to be seen as just a quieter version of Draco, or something. Or a less insane version of my mother. Or a less charming version of my father…or just toned down versions of my aunt and uncle.

I want to be seen as me.

The problem is, I don't even know who that is anymore. I haven't known for a long time.

I take a deep breath, and try the door, which opens up.

 _You should really learn to lock it behind you, Longbottom_.

Then again, how many people actually come to the greenhouses in their free time, right after dinner?

He's inside watering a plant. He looks up when the door opens, and almost drops the watering can.

"Erm…hi, Longbottom," I say nervously, gripping the strap of my bag tightly.

He turns away, back to the plant, and doesn't say anything for a few seconds.

"What do you want this time?"

"I…" I look at my feet, feeling small. And I'm not small. I'm taller than Draco. Another trait I get from my father.

Longbottom sighs and puts the watering can down, leaning against one of the tables.

"So…how did you find me anyway?" Longbottom asks, when it's clear that I can't figure out what to say.

"I followed you," I say truthfully.

"Wow, really?" He looks down. "You must have something important to say, then."

It's an opening, and I decide to take it instead of stalling.

 _I can be brave._

Well, at least he doesn't seem _too_ weirded out by my following him.

"I found out what they did," I blurt, feeling my face burning. I swallow nervously, "My parents, I mean. To yours."

"You…" He clenches his fists. "Why? Why didn't you just leave it alone?"

"Because…because they're my parents too! I deserve to know!"

"You didn't know before, so why do you care now?!" He asks, raising his voice.

 _You didn't know before, so why do you care now?_

Why do I care now?

"Because I-" And then I realize. Then I realize why. "I didn't want to know before because I was scared, but I need to know now so I can avoid becoming them in the future!"

 _It's true, isn't it? All of this. Because I don't want to be them. I don't want to be...to be…a killer, a murderer, a torturer._

There's silence. It's deafening, until Longbottom speaks again, in a much quieter voice.

"Why were you scared?"

I stare at my feet again.

"Because…while their victims remained nameless, faceless statistics…I could ignore it. But once I could place an identity on them…I'll have to acknowledge the fact that my parents were horrible people and…" I sigh, closing my eyes, "And…feel responsible for everything they did, too."

" _You_ didn't do anything, though," Longbottom says, no longer seeming angry.

"I might as well have," I say, "With the way people act around me."

"I'm sorry," he says finally.

"For what?" I ask. What does he have to be sorry for?

"For blaming you for the Cruciatus, for blaming you for what your parents did…for being afraid of you," He smiles slightly. "You're not at all scary, you know."

I laugh. "Oh no, my scary Slytherin reputation is in jeopardy. Whatever shall I do?"

"I was talking to Ginny the other day," He says suddenly, "Ginny Weasley, you know. And she told me she's seen you talking with Luna Lovegood, and I know Luna's kind of weird but you can't be so bad if she's friends with you."

"She is friends with me," I say. "But my cousin doesn't seem to like that."

"What does it matter?" Longbottom asks.

"It…because, he's my cousin!" I say, waving my hands to try to make him understand. "Of course it matters! I…he's angry at me now and I don't know what to do."

Longbottom shrugs. "I don't know either."

"I know you probably don't care," I say slowly, "But…even is he's annoying and I know he's a bit of a bully-" Longbottom lets out a snort "-but he's still my cousin."

"Yeah, I know," he says, as he pulls on gloves. "Anyway, I'm just going to be in here for a while, so…"

"Right," I say, "I'll just, er, I'll see you around."

I leave before he can say anything else.

 _Well, that didn't go so bad._

* * *

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	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8-

A few weeks pass, where I barely see Longbottom at all, except in classes.

At least he doesn't seem to hate me anymore.

I don't know why I feel so happy about that. I mean, I like to say I don't care what people think of me…but if I truly didn't care, then I wouldn't be hiding my friendship with Luna from Draco.

I mean, he's already confronted me, twice, about it. And even though I wanted to proudly say it…honestly, I'm just a coward.

I know, I know if I don't want to become a Death Eater, I will have to leave my family at some point. But I don't want to leave them sooner than I have to. And I'm afraid I'll lose Draco if I _do_ continue to hang out with Luna.

Luna didn't seem to mind, though, when I told her, which just made me feel even worse on the inside. But she cheerfully suggested we walk along the far side of the Great Lake instead, so as not to be seen.

Which is what we're doing now. It's Friday, and classes have ended, and normally I would be in the common room or in the library, but I escaped my nosy cousin on the pretense of needing fresh air.

Which was true, actually.

"So tomorrow's the first Hogsmeade weekend," Luna brings up, still in that dreamy voice of hers that's somehow grown on me.

"I am aware," I say.

"Well, some people are meeting at the Hog's Head," Luna says casually, "Want to come?"

I laugh. "Luna, I'm not even telling my cousin and my housemates about being friends with you, what makes you think I'm going to meet up with a bunch of your friends in public?"

"They're not my friends," Luna says, her tone not changing, "And it won't be as public. Not as many people go to the Hog's Head."

"Wait, hold on," I say, stopping. Luna doesn't seem to notice I've stopped walking and I lean forward and gently pull her arm back.

"What?" She asks, blinking at me owlishly.

"Who _are_ you meeting with? And why the Hog's Head?"

She tilts her head. "To make sure Professor Umbridge doesn't find out, I imagine," she says, looking at me as if the answer was obvious.

"And why does a simple gathering of friends need to be kept from Umbridge?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"It's not a simple gathering of friends," she says, "Harry Potter is starting a defense group. We're meeting to see who's interested."

And with that, she walks off.

 _Wait, what?_

I hurry after her, so that we fall in step beside each other.

"Luna, do you mean to say Potter is starting a – a group to go against Umbridge?"

"And to teach us what she's not," Luna says, and skips ahead. I walk faster to keep up.

"We're meeting at noon, you should come, I think you would like it," She says.

"Who else is coming?"

"I don't know, probably Hermione Granger, the Weasleys – Ginny Weasley told me about it – and maybe some others," Luna says vaguely.

 _Potter teaching defense,_ I think, my mind racing, _Potter will teach us – teach us how to defend ourselves unlike Umbridge – teach us to defend against the Dark Lord–_

I stop abruptly, again.

If I join this group, I would basically be publicly declaring myself against the Dark Lord.

And it was just a few weeks ago that I could manage to admit it to _myself_. I didn't tell Luna but then again, I didn't have to. She just seemed to know.

"Luna," I call out, so that she stops skipping and turns around to glance at me.

"What are you doing?" She says, "Don't you know that area has a huge infestation of Wrackspurts?"

"I-what?" I shuffle away from the spot I'm standing in until she seems satisfied.

She comes nearer. "Are you going to come, then?"

I bite my lip, thinking.

 _Am I going to come?_

Luna only said it was a few people…and if it's in the Hog's Head then it's unlikely someone from my house will find out…and I mean…if they're planning to keep this secret from Umbridge surely they can also keep my involvement a secret?

And this is only one meeting…I don't have to go to all of them…

 _Just to see who's interested, huh?_

"Noon, you say?" I ask, and Luna beams and pulls me into a hug. I stiffen, realizing it's been a _long_ time since I've hugged someone.

It feels nice.

She lets go quickly and gives me one of her dreamy smiles again, before skipping away again.

 _You are so weird_.

In a good way, though. In a good way.

* * *

I stand in front of the dingy pub, steeling myself.

 _You can do this_.

It's just a few minutes after the supposed meeting time, and even though I got here early, I didn't want to be the first to go in, so I hung around the corner, hidden, and watched the other students. There were a lot more students than Luna made it sound; I've counted at least more than twenty-five.

Yeah, I was a being a bit creepy. Oh well.

Now as I stand beneath the rotted sign proclaiming the old building as the "Hog's Head," I regret not going in first. Now I'll walk in, and they'll all stare and watch as I walked in.

Well, I can't do anything about it now.

 _You can do this, Ethelinda._

I brace myself, before taking the few steps closer to the pub, trying to ignore the fleshy smell emanating from it, and push open the door.

"What is _she_ doing here?"

Everyone looks my way, even the barman on the one side and the patron covered in banadages.

Lavender Brown was the one who'd spoken. The other students all stare at me with a mixture of hostility and curiosity. Only Luna smiles dreamily at me and beckons me forward.

"I knew you'd be here soon," She says as she pats the seat next to her. I ignore everyone else's eyes and fall into the seat next to her. The students nearest us scoot away.

"Luna," Hermione Granger says slowly. "Did you tell Lestrange about the meeting?"

Luna nods.

Granger exchanges panicked looks with the two boys next to her, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, while mutters break out amongst the rest.

I'm about to speak up and defend Luna (and myself) when Ginny Weasley beats me to it.

"Guys, it's okay," She says, "She's Luna's friend. That says a lot more about her than Luna, doesn't it?" Her eyes find me and I nod, gratefully. She nods back.

"If you're sure…" Granger says quietly, flicking her eyes over to me, hesitance evident in her voice.

"The better question is why she is even here," Someone says loudly from behind me. "You'd think she'd be running off to Umbridge instead."

I turn around and recognize Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff.

"I'm right here you know," I say finally, fed up. "Why don't you ask me directly?"

All the students quiet down, staring. I realize it's the first time that a lot of them have even heard me speak.

Smith recovers quickly. "Well, then," he says, "why are you here?"

"I can ask you the same thing," I say. "We're all here because Umbridge doesn't teach us anything, isn't that right?"

He scoffs. "We're here because of Harry Potter, too. Your lot doesn't quite like him, do they?"

"Well I _happen_ to not agree with 'my lot,'" I snap.

"That's enough," Potter says, and its telling at how much power he has over the students when they all shut up. "We're here to talk about Umbridge and defending ourselves, okay?"

I turn back to the front, as Granger starts speaking. Luna pats my hand, comfortingly.

Honestly, Smith had every right to ask me, didn't he? They all have valid reasons to be suspicious of me.

After all, it was only a few weeks ago that I'd decided for myself what side I was on. I'm replaying the words I said over and over in my head, feeling the anxiety creeping up until it's practically choking me.

"You did great," Luna whispers to me, quietly enough that only I can hear. The anxiety seems to wash away in waves. It's still there, but to a lesser extent.

It's not a big deal, right? But it's still…scary…to have spoken up in front of twenty or so people. In front of all those people who dislike me for some reason or the other.

But I can do this. I have Luna. And Ginny Weasley seems to be willing to accept me.

And maybe…I look over at Longbottom, who's sitting with all the Gryffindors. He catches me looking and hesitantly gives me a small smile. It's brief, but it's a start.

Right?

I pay attention to what Granger says, and soon Smith speaks up again, challenging Potter's validity and sanity.

Of course, Smith doesn't know firsthand that the Dark Lord is back, but he doesn't have to be so rude about it.

"I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right?" Potter says finally, voice rising. "So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

There's clear silence. No one wants to acknowledge what I've just realized myself; they came to hear how Cedric Diggory died, they came to hear Potter's story, to see for themselves if he is really just as crazy as the _Daily Prophet_ makes him out to be.

I decide to speak up again.

"He is back." I say it quietly, but in the silence everyone hears it. At everyone's eyes on me, I want to run out. I want to leave. I want to take my words back and pretend I never said anything.

But I force myself to stay put. I grip Luna's hand and force my voice to stay even. "My uncle told me." I stand up, legs wobbling, facing everyone, who all hold their breaths, as if even one small movement can ruin this precarious balance I'm in.

"You all know who my uncle is. Lucius Malfoy. Yes, he was a Death Eater. Yes, he lied and bribed his way out of Azkaban. And yes, he's become a Death Eater again. And if you think I'm lying then ask yourself why I would lie about my own family?"

"Then why are you here?" Smith asks again. "What reason do you have to betray your family's lies?"

 _Betray your family._

"Because," I say, voice shaking. "I don't want to be like them."

 _Betray your family._

"How can we trust you?"

 _Betray your family._

"I'm here, aren't I?" I say. "I'm here, spilling my family's secrets when I don't have to. Those are the facts. And either…you can either choose to trust me or not. I don't care."

I _do_ care, but they don't need to know that.

But how can I expect them to trust me when I've just shown that my own family can't trust me anymore?

Smith huffs and looks away, so I sit down. I feel everyone's eyes on me, the hostility mostly melted away with confusion to replace it.

Luna doesn't say anything this time, but she's beaming brighter than the sun and I can feel that she's proud of me.

I've done the right thing, haven't I?

It is the right thing, isn't it? To tell people firsthand that the Dark Lord is back, to warn them of his coming?

I don't say anything for the rest of the meeting, where Smith finally shuts up after a round of Potter-praising and George Weasley pulling out a lethal-looking item from his Zonko's bag and threatening the Hufflepuff with it.

Just because I'm joining Potter's group doesn't mean I have to like him. I still don't understand how he could be so friendly with Mudbloods like Granger. Then again, his own mother was one, wasn't she?

Then Mudblood Granger pulls out a scroll, telling us all she'd like us to sign it.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of us are reluctant to sign it, and I decide to speak up again.

"Why do we need to sign it?" I ask. "What if it falls into the wrong hands?"

"Do you really think I'd be so careless?" Granger says. "Besides, signing it is kind of like…well, solidarity, but also a promise to keep it secret. I'm hoping everyone is honorable enough to stick to it."

Well, now she's basically saying if I don't sign it, I'm untrustworthy, not loyal to the club, or whatever. But how can I trust a Mudblood to keep it safe?

Luna puts her hand on my arm. "I trust Hermione," she says serenely.

I sigh. What have I gotten myself into?

"Alright," I say finally. "But…all of you, I have a favor to ask."

Smith interrupts before I can continue. "What? Just because you're pureblooded, it doesn't make us all your servants."

"I know. That's why I called it a _favor_ ," I say. "But…obviously, we've all agreed to keep this club secret and all, but I'd especially like to keep my involvement secret. That means not associating with me at all outside of our meetings. If my cousin ever finds out what I'm doing, I'm as good as dead. And if they find out that _I've_ told you the things I did…"

"We'll keep it secret, don't worry," Granger says.

I try not to show disgust that my safety is now in the hands of a Mudblood and jerk my head in an appropriation of a grateful nod.

I sign the parchment and hand it over to Luna, who signs it immediately before passing it on.

She really is too trusting for her own good.

Then again, would she have become my friend if she wasn't?


End file.
